Chapter 51 – Sidney #3
“I never lied to you! I just didn’t tell you because I was scared!
” I scream, frustrated at him and his fear and how he’s throwing everything but the kitchen sink into this fight to push me away.
To paint me in a bad light so that he can walk away with less guilt.
“I was scared to tell you and lose you, but it seems like I already have. Just like you’re scared to fight to keep me because you might have to open yourself up to letting someone in.
Well, guess what? The possibility of getting hurt is always part of the equation.
Always. But so is being loved and cherished and fulfilled.
Those are the things you don’t ever talk about or focus on.
The late-night calls just to say I love you.
The early morning looks over coffee. The knowing you have a friend to sit with you in silence after you’ve had an absolutely shitty day.
Those are the things you’re forgetting. Those are the things you’re ‘protecting’ Luke from seeing.
What you don’t realize is that when he grows up, he will have no idea what is normal and fulfilling.
So, you can keep being scared because, damn you, Grayson . . . you scare the hell out of me, too.”
I pound my fist on the railing because I have so much pent-up emotion, and I’m so mad at him that it’s either that or grab him and kiss him.
The latter of which, I don’t want to do.
“You take risks every damn day in your job—you’ve made a name for yourself doing it—and yet, you won’t take a goddamn risk on me, will you? ”
“It isn’t that easy, Sidney.”
“The best things in life never are easy. You have to work at them and struggle with them just to make them work, but that’s the best reward .
. . that you didn’t give up and it netted you something beautiful.
We could be beautiful.” I’ve never pleaded in my life, but I’m doing it now.
I need to hear him tell me he’ll try. That I’m worth the risk.
That he wants me to stay. “I love you, damn it, and I don’t have a fucking clue what to do about it other than to ask you to choose me. To tell me I’m worth the risk.”
Every part of him freezes as every single part of me dies inside.
“I don’t know that I can,” he murmurs. His eyes well, and he blinks the moisture away before turning his back and walking to the edge of the space.
“I never looked for this. I never meant to fall in love with you . . . but I did, and I can’t stop it, and nothing you can say to me can stop it . . .” I hiccup a huge sob.
Ask me. Choose me. Fight for me.
“Sidney . . .”
“It’s okay.” I shake my head as I take a step back, and he turns to face me. “It’s just as shocking to me as it is to you. I have a heart. Who knew?” I say through another hysterical sob.
He takes a step forward, and as much as I tell myself to run as far away from him as possible to protect my heart because he hasn’t given me an inkling of hope, I don’t move.
Not when he frames the sides of my face with his hands.
Choose me.
His lips press kisses against the tracks my tears have left.
His lips meet mine in the sweetest of ways.
Choose me.
Then his hands remain on my cheeks, his forehead rests on mine, and his breath feathers over my lips.
“I’m fucked up, Sidney. And I’m going to keep fucking up.
I’m man enough to admit my pride is in the way and I need to sort it out.
I need to fix myself or else it isn’t fair to drag you into my life more than I have.
It isn’t right for me to attach blame to you when you don’t deserve it.
I thought I’d gotten over what she’d done .
. . and then your first fuck-up, I call you her name.
That isn’t fair to you.” He kisses me oh so softly as my tears fall.
“I love you. I think that’s why I fought you so hard.
All along, I knew I would fall, and yet, I can’t ask you to stay.
I can’t tell you I’ll be perfect. I can’t give you the things that you need to thrive.
I have to let you go. It’s going to fucking kill me, but I can’t hold you back here. I can’t clip your wings.”
Ask me to stay.
My shoulders shudder as I fight back the sobs. This tenderness—his tenderness—is too much when I feel like this is our goodbye. I thought I had two more weeks to prepare for this. I thought I’d be able to change his mind even though my mind hadn’t been made up yet.
It is now.
And now he’s pushing me away.
“You deserve so much more than I can give you, Princess.”
For whatever reason, that term—the one he’s always used as a dig but is now used as an endearment—undoes me, makes my bottom lip quiver.
But I want you.
Makes tears fall harder.
“Once you step away from here . . . once you go back to your city and your sidewalks and your nightlife, you’ll see that you missed it all. You’ll know that you’d be settling if you stay here. And you . . . I don’t want you ever to settle.”
My lips find his again. My hands need to touch him. My body needs to feel his against mine—in mine . . . one last time.
Because this is goodbye.
I know it. It’s inevitable.
He knows it. I can feel it in his touch.
Choose me.
So, we make love on the balcony. We make love in the moonlight. We whisper apologies. We groan sweet nothings. But we make no promises.
And later, when he walks me to my car as I fight back the tears, and he presses yet another bittersweet kiss onto my lips, I know this is over.
I could fight. For him. For us. For more. But unless he wants to fight, too, it’s useless.
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe I’m so caught up in the moment I’ve lost sight of everything else.
Maybe he’s right and I’m wrong.
And that’s what hurts the most.